


Moba Pox

by bongbingbong



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Autistic Character, Bajoran Chicken Pox and related illnesses, Elim Garak Cares Too Much, Gen, Julian Bashir needs to get some damn sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:33:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24699886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bongbingbong/pseuds/bongbingbong
Summary: With the majority of the Bajorans on the station taken out by an illness, Julian Bashir has his hands full trying to make sure everybody is looked after. But who's going to look after him?
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41
Collections: Deep Space Discord Literary Universe





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I just wanted to write a story where people Love And Appreciate Julian Bashir. It's what he deserves.

“Okay, we’ve got at least five more crew members on standby in their quarters, we need to be ready to beam them in as soon as we make room. I don’t care where we get the beds from, or even  _ what _ we use for the beds - they won’t mind, it’s not like the majority of them haven’t slept in worse. No, the guidelines are very clear, if you have someone who can see to your needs you do not have a place here, unless you’re in critical - no, I will not make an exception! Now hold on, I just need to-”

Kira Nerys stopped mid-sentence, blinking hard as her vision blurred at the edges. Her knees suddenly felt wobbly and weak, and the persistent half-itch, half-soreness that sandpapered at her skin was threatening to send her over the edge if one more damned civilian bothered her with an inane request when they could clearly see that she had much more important things to-

The world tilted, and suddenly everything was horizontal. Or rather, she was horizontal. She landed very softly though, cradled in the arms of one Doctor Julian Bashir.

“I think it’s time you were relieved from duty, Major,” he said, gently prying the PADD from her hands. She made an inarticulate noise of displeasure.

“D’nt have anyone else-” she murmured, trying in vain to blink the fuzziness from her eyes. It didn’t help.

“Come on, I’m going to get you into a bed” said Julian. He put one hand on her back and hooked another one under her legs, and she felt herself lifted easily off the floor and onto the nearest makeshift cot. There were currently ten of them littering the cargo bay.

“Major?” came Chief O’Brien’s tinny voice. Kira’s communicator was still open.

“Chief!” said Julian brightly, “make that six more beds, will you?”

*

Currently, Commander Sisko’s office was closed to everybody save Dax, who was furiously bashing out warning communications to the surrounding systems as fast as she could manage. With the Major - plus almost every Bajoran officer on the station - out of commission, they were trying to manage this outbreak on a skeleton crew. Of course, everybody had heard of Moba Pox - really, it just seemed like a version of the Terran Chicken Pox; irritating and painful for children, debilitatingly weakening for adults - but very few, it seemed, had actually seen it in action. The entire station was currently under lockdown. Sisko was madly trying to organise inoculations for the planetside populations of Bajor, who hadn’t had access to proper healthcare in, well, half a century’s worth of occupation. It was - in simplest terms - a clusterfuck. 

What made it worse was the fact that Doctor Bashir had been trying to comm for the past five minutes, but Sisko was finally on a roll. If he could just finish this last-

“Commander. If you don’t answer that I’m going to strangle you,” said Dax, not looking up from her console. Sisko sighed deeply.

“Sisko here. What can I do for you, Doctor?”

“Commander!” came Julian’s voice, rushed and slightly breathless. Sisko felt a little pang of guilt at that, the poor man was already run off his feet, and this was just the beginning.

“I don’t know how to say this, but I  _ need _ more personnel. We’ve got the infirmary set up for our critical cases, but Jabara and Tagana can’t hold down the cargo bay  _ and _ the empty quarters we’ve set up for the children. Plus there’s no guarantee how much longer they’re going to hold-”

“Doctor, I appreciate your situation but there is nothing I can do - our people up here are stretched to their limits too.”

“Commander,  _ please- _ ” there was a thread of desperation in the young doctor’s voice that Sisko just couldn’t find it in himself to ignore. He sighed, pointedly ignoring the smug look he knew Jadzia was sending his way from across the room.

“Tell me what you need.”

*

Things were dire. Julian looked around at the little group he had managed to gather in the infirmary, huddled together with apprehension - and frankly, a little fear in their features. It figured that the only personnel who were able to be plucked from their current duties were mostly the ones who also held crippling fears of the medical profession. 

First of all, there was Savannah. Not that she was particularly worried about the prospect of being in the infirmary, but she did look a little uneasy at the thought of having to help out in a medical context. Frankly, Julian felt terrible for making her do this, but according to Sisko she had agreed to help pretty much immediately. Susan was doing her best to cover up her own worries by crossing her arms and carefully schooling her face into a blank mask of indifference, but Julian knew better than to trust that. Bond, he was a little nervous about. She seemed the most casual out of everybody, but if her brash manner as a patient was anything to go by, he almost felt sorry for the Bajorans who would be under her care. Then again, she was a professional, so he silently crossed his fingers that he was wrong. M, on the other hand, made no attempts to hide how completely out of her depth (and completely out of her usual sleep cycle) she was, her brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and determined concentration as he explained what their duties would be. Then there was Ari, who was probably the most at home of the group. They’d volunteered - Savannah had done a bit of a recruitment drive herself, bless her, and had pulled in Ari (“they look after animals and that’s kind of similar to looking after people right?”), and for some extraordinary reason, Robertson. Robertson he was perhaps the most concerned about - they already looked pale and unfocused just from being in the infirmary, and they hadn’t even started trying to look after anyone yet. Having said that though, he’d been surprised by pretty much everyone in the room at this point, so perhaps it would happen again.

“So we’re not looking after anyone who’s going to need like…  _ medical _ medical help, right?” Susan was saying. 

Julian nodded, “you’ll mostly just be seeing to everyone’s basic needs - feeding them, helping them drink, making sure they’re comfortable, putting ointment on the sores... Oh, and making sure they’re resting, if you happen to be looking after Major Kira or Lieutenant Ahna-”

“Dibs on that room then,” said Bond, without a trace of humour.

“Oh yes, I imagine that will be necessary. Moba pox tends to make its adult patients very weak, so for the next forty-eight hours or so most of our patients will be unable to look after themselves.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad I guess,” said Susan.

“Well, there’s also the fact that many - not all! But many cases. Tend to get. Nauseous.”

“Oh god,” whispered Savannah.

“Not everybody though! Just something to look out for. Now we also have a children’s ward - it tends to hit them less hard, but they’ll still be sick, and most of them will be separated from their parents since the adults are in no shape to be looking after them. But they might be slightly more mobile. And need a bit of… entertaining.”

“Shotgun adults room!” Susan announced. The rest of the group stayed quiet.

“Any other… ah… volunteers?” said Julian. He looked pleadingly at Robertson, who if anything blanched even further.

“I’ll look after the kids’ room,” they said hoarsely.

“I can help you,” said M, doing her best not to sound terrified.

“I would rather do the adults room, if that’s okay,” said Ari.

Julian looked at Savannah, who was staring blankly into nothingness.

“Is… is it okay if you help in the kids’ room?” he said.

Savannah didn’t respond except to nod. A terrible weight settled in Julian’s chest - but there was work to be done. They didn’t have time to lose.

*

Nurse Tagana had miraculously held out for much longer than the rest of the Bajorans, but she could feel the telltale itch under her skin. Under her scrubs, she knew that her skin would already be dotted with little red spots, which would over the course of the next few hours turn into terribly painful sores. Still, until then, there was work to be done.

She looked up as the cargo bay door opened and three people walked in - Bond she knew well, and the Trill officer she had seen taking naps in the infirmary, possibly someone who fixed the computers? The third person, she had no idea about, but they seemed genial enough.

“Hello everybody - I’d give you all a proper welcome, but you guys are likely going to be doing most of the work around here within a couple of hours, so we’ve got a lot to get through.”

Bond nodded, thankfully taking charge. Tagana had set up a little station with everything they’d need - hyposprays, tricorders, sonic cleaners; thankfully all things at least Bond had some working knowledge of operating. They hopefully wouldn’t need too much more than just the basics, since any patients with serious medical concerns would be beamed straight to Julian in the infirmary. When they were done, the three newcomers went to go and introduce themselves to everybody. Ahna, who up until this point had been lightly dozing, shot up suddenly in her cot.

“Bond? Is that you?” she said, looking around the room. Her gaze finally alighted on Bond, who made her way over.

“That’s me, what’s up?” she said.

“What’s  _ up? _ ” said Ahna, aghast, “Bond, are you guys the new nurses? Is that what’s happening here?”

Bond smiled sweetly, “yep, you’ll find that it is! Now Ahna, how can I help you?” she came over and sat down on the edge of Ahna’s bed. 

“What’s going on?” said the woman one bed over, whom Bond recognised as Ensign Gia.

“Just checking on the patients,” said Bond, “don’t worry, everything’s alright.”

Bond might have been smiling with her mouth, but her eyes flashed with a dangerous warning. Ahna thought better of speaking too loudly, and instead leaned forwards so that she could whisper into Bond’s ear.

“If I wasn’t distracted by the fact that every inch of my skin feels like it’s on fire, I’d find this kind of hilarious.”

“I’m so glad you think so,” replied Bond, and gave Ahna’s shoulder a gentle push. It was all that was needed to send her flopping back onto the bed.

“And stay there!” said Bond.

*

“I guess you’re in charge, right?” said Savannah as the other three newly-appointed nurses stood outside the childrens’ room. The look Robertson returned was not promising.

“Is this a bad time to tell you I’m terrible with kids?” they replied. Savannah and M stared.

“Wait, so how are you a teacher?” asked M in confusion. 

Robertson shrugged, “the teaching part’s fine, I know what I’m talking about there. There’s… topics. Structures. Rules. Outside of the classroom I’m uh… vague on what exactly to do.”

“Huh, I never thought about it like that,” said M. The three of them stepped forward, and the doors opened. 

Inside, it was chaos. Roju and Alka were currently sitting on the same bed, taking turns slapping each others’ sores and screaming with laughter. Tallis was sitting one cot over and yelling for them to stop it, and one bed over from her, Yelsi was yelling at Tallis to shut up. Hokya was currently wandering the room with a slightly dazed expression on her face, a battered old stuffed animal tucked under one arm. Her blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, and trailed along the floor behind her. Nurse Jabara was currently wrestling Panyi back into his bed, who seemed to be extremely upset about something, although by his wriggling Robertson could tell he was mostly just overtired. There were a handful of other Bajoran children around too, ones Robertson only kind of recognised as their parents tended mostly to drop them off at the school when they needed to be kept out of trouble for one reason or another. Robertson sighed and put their hands on their hips.

“Excuse me everybody, I’d like all eyes looking up here please!” they said, their voice suddenly loud and commanding, although somehow managing not to be a shout. A few heads turned, but Roju and Alka continued their slapping game.

“I’m waiting!” they continued, and Panyi stopped his fussing, realising there were newcomers.

“Mx Robertson!” he shouted, and then fell silent when Robertson held a finger to their lips. Roju and Alka were still at it.

“ _ Some _ of you are being very rude right now!” they said, and Roju and Alka froze at the implied warning in their voice, turning also to look at Robertson, who smiled.

“Thank you, everybody. Now, everybody listen very carefully. In a moment, I’m going to ask everybody to go back to their beds - not yet!” they added, as several of the children made to move.

“Nurse Jabara, and now Savannah,” they gestured at Savannah, who gave a shy little wave, “and M,” M also gave everyone her best smile and wave, “and I, are going to help you get better. But that’s going to be very difficult if you’re going to be rude and silly. I know you’re all bored and tired and itchy, but the harder you make this for us, the longer you’re going to be bored and tired and itchy for. Got it?”

A chorus of nods and replies of “yes Professor,” went around the room.

“Okay, off you go to your beds now please!” said Robertson. Everyone moved quietly back to their beds, and Robertson let out an imperceptible sigh. 

“You did it,” whispered Savannah, “you teacher voiced them.”

*

Owohi Tima was, despite her elderly age, not a person Julian ever really saw in the infirmary. In fact, he wasn’t sure they’d ever even met, until now. Of course, Moba Pox had changed that, and she was now lying on one of the five biobeds crammed into the infirmary, her vital signs under constant surveillance on the screen beside her. Julian gently pressed a hypospray to her neck, and was rewarded with a warm smile.

“You’re doing wonderfully, sweetheart,” she said, lifting her hand weakly to pat his wrist. She managed to do it once, before she dropped her arm back down to the bed. Julian placed his hand over hers.

“Thank you for saying so,” he said, trying to be as reassuring as he could. The other four patients had been put under a sedative, keeping them asleep through the worst of the illness so that they could be monitored. Tima, however, had vehemently refused, cackling that if she was going to go, she was going to go out swinging. She had found the look of horror on Julian’s face particularly entertaining.

“Lieutenant Hix to Infirmary,” came Susan’s voice over the comm. Julian gave Tima’s hand a little squeeze before replying.

“What can I do for you Susan?” 

“Do you know anything about the replicator patterns for rubber gloves? Is there a secret setting I’m missing here?”

Julian’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“The replicators only dispense gloves that are fucking  _ huge _ \- ‘scuse my French, but god, I can fit my entire head in here. I could probably fit Chief O’Brien’s entire head in here, and that’s saying something.”

“Susan-”

“Who programmed these patterns, Sisko?”

“I’m sorry, the gloves come in one size… if they don’t fit, you might just have to make do.”

“Oh. Right then, thanks! Hix out.”

Julian sighed, although he couldn’t keep the amusement from his face at the mental image of Miles with an entire rubber glove shoved over his head. 

“She’s a sweet girl, helping you out,” said Tima, as Julian checked her sores for any sign of infection. 

“She is. They all are,” replied Julian, feeling that familiar pang of guilt again. He’d have to make it up to them somehow, when this was all over. That, and apologise.

“Stop that,” snapped Tima, and Julian withdrew his hand quickly.

“Sorry, did I hurt-”

“No you idiot, stop beating yourself up about asking for help. It’s written all over your face, silly boy.”

“I can’t imagine what you’re talking about,” said Julian, resuming his inspection. Tima drew a deep sigh.

“If you insist,” she said, “but if I had the energy right now, I’d fight you about it. And win, too.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” said Julian, but she had managed her objective, she had made him smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Julian gets some more reassurance, and Garak finally shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People throw up in this chapter, and while it doesn't happen in any great amount of detail, the warning is there if you're emetophobic.

“Here’s the ointment, it’s gonna feel a bit cold! Cold like a little droplet of rain, there it is. Does that feel better? I bet it does. You’re being very brave about all this. Who’s a good-” Ari paused, realising they weren’t talking to an animal, “- er… Bajoran…” they finished lamely. 

Ensign Gia was mostly asleep at this point, and the litany of talk from the Terran currently seeing to her sores washed over her like a soothing, but very confusing wave of words. 

“Ari, you are aware that you’re not talking to a regnar or anything there yeah?” said Bond, seeing to her own patient. Currently, she was trying to get some soup into a middle-aged, balding man. Undoubtedly he had a name, but his throat was currently not allowing him to form words. 

“Open up,” she said kindly, “there you go. Excellent, you’re doing great.”

Susan, currently using the cleaner on a very unfortunate (and nauseous) young woman, was staring openly. Bond had completely transformed since they had arrived - having been nothing but attentive, reassuring… even sweet towards her patients. In fact, they already adored her. She herself, on the other hand, was proving slightly less popular among the masses. It may have had something to do with the fact that she seemed to be copping all of the disgruntled complaints, the snide comments, the… well, the vomit, too. It was difficult to play “perfect nurse” when people were snapping their fingers at you for attention.

“Oh, that’s not good,” said Bond, holding up the arm of the man she was currently attending to. There were scrapes all along it, with tiny beads of blood welling up along the angry red liens.

“S’itchy” he mumbled.

Bond shook her head, putting his arm down carefully. 

“Do we have a dermal regenerator in here?”

“You’ll have to go get one from the infirmary,” called Tagana from across the room. She was currently lying on a cot of her own, propped up by pillows. She hadn’t been working, but she’d been keeping an eye on things and calling out whenever one of them did something stupid. Which was, unfortunately, reasonably often.

“Bring it back to me, and I’ll show you how to calibrate it so that it won’t regenerate the sores and accidentally seal off the infection under the skin.”

“I don’t know enough about Bajoran medicine to bother asking you what the hell that means, but I’m gonna take your word for it,” replied Bond, “back in a bit!”

*

Savannah had given herself the duty of being the room-organiser. That meant straightening pillows, picking up glasses and bowls and putting them in the recycler, retrieving bed covers and dropped stuffed toys, and generally really anything that involved not actively interacting with anybody in the room who was not considered to be an adult. It had been working out pretty well, save the persistent sick churning in her stomach as she worked at a job she had no idea how to do. Not that it was outwardly visible but her hands felt unsteady, shaken by fine, imperceptible tremors since they’d arrived. She told herself it would be okay, she would power through this, and so far nothing too bad had happened.

“Miss Savannah, I don’t feel too good,” whined Roju as she passed his bed.

Oh well. All good things.

“Oh no! What’s wrong?” she replied, slightly hesitant to move any closer. Roju looked extremely pale.

“N-nurse?” called Savannah, not looking away from Roju, who seemed to have gone all clammy.

“There’s a bucket next to his bed,” said Jabara, not looking away from the child she was currently scanning.

“A bucket?” murmured Savannah in confusion. Her question was quickly answered when Roju leaned over the side of his bed and promptly threw up all over the floor.

Jabara turned around and sighed.

“Roju, the bucket’s on the other side of the - Savannah?”

As soon as the sour smell hit her, Savannah ran to the recycler, her stomach lurching as it also threatened to empty itself of its contents. M had rushed to check on Roju and was quietly tucking him back in while he shivered, and as she tried to brace her trembling hand against the wall she heard someone run up behind her too. Just in time, because she too bent over the recycler and was sick, tears stinging her eyes that she wasn’t sure were from the burning in her throat or the embarrassment constricting her chest. Then suddenly, there was an arm around her waist and a hand on her shoulder, helping keep her wobbly knees from sending her face first into the recycling unit. 

“You’re alright, I’ve got you,” said Rob’s voice from beside her, “spit out the rest, and we’ll get you sitting down.”

Savannah nodded, did just that, and allowed herself to be led to a vacant chair a little way away from any of the beds. M came and crouched by the chair with a glass of water, which she took gratefully.

“Sorry,” she said, trying to will her hands to stop shaking.

“Stop that,” replied Robertson, “it was going to be one of us at some point. You took one for the team.”

“I guess.”

M patted her shoulder affectionately. 

“That’s the spirit,” she said. 

“And I’m sorry,” said Robertson with a smile, “I know Julian helping you with this would be preferable, but I’ll be sure to tell him it happened afterwards so he can make up for lost time.”

“Oh shut  _ up _ !” said Savannah, batting half-heartedly at them. It was no use, they were already swiftly making their retreat, although they snuck a quick wink back at her once they were a safe distance away. 

*

Bond was currently rifling through the infirmary storeroom, something she probably did more often than anybody, including Julian, was aware about. After all, why bother the CMO when you could patch yourself up just as well on minor injuries. She knew where the regenerators were kept. Still, it would be prudent to be upfront on this particular occasion, to save Julian some stress about missing equipment.

“Hey Bashir,” said Bond, sticking her head into the infirmary doorway, “I’m borrowing a dermal regenerator!”

Julian looked up from where he was stabilising the core temperature of what looked to be a very old and fragile looking Bajoran man.

“Hold that thought for one second, Lieutenant,” he replied tersely. His brows were furrowed, his features tight with concentration. Judging by the slightly harried pace to his words and his movements, Bond guessed that he hadn’t stopped since they’d last spoken. He watched the old man’s vitals intently for a few moments more and then nodded, seemingly satisfied with the result. Only then did he come over.

“What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” he said, then looked at the dermal regenerator in her hand.

“What’s happened?” he said, the tone of his voice suddenly much more serious.

“Nothing! Someone just got a bit too itchy, that’s all,” said Bond, then crossed her arms.

“Take a deep breath, Julian. Give yourself a moment.”

Julian nodded, breathed in, and let out a long sigh, allowing some of the tension to ease out of his shoulders.

“She’s a good friend, that one,” came Tima’s voice from behind him, “knows what she’s talking about.”

“Thank you ma’am!” said Bond, sounding much friendlier than Julian had ever heard her sound, “it sounds like Doctor Bashir’s going to be in good hands with you around!”

“You’ve got that one right, where would he be without me? Enjoying his day, probably!” Tima’s resulting laugh very quickly turned into a hacking cough, which had Bashir rushing to her side even as she waved him off.

“It’s fine,” she wheezed, “it’s not the Moba that’s doing it, just a little disease I like to call old age.”

“If you don’t stop talking, I’m going to have to sedate you,” said Julian, only half-joking.

“I’d like to see you try, young man.”

The comm for the infirmary chirped.

“Ensign M to infirmary? Doctor Bashir, are you there?”

“This is Bashir speaking.”

The background of this particular communication was much noisier than usual; Julian fancied he could hear Robertson’s voice very firmly admonishing somebody for flinging their food across the room.

“Awesome! Well actually, not really. We thought Nurse Jabara had been inoculated - well, she thought she had been.”

For a split second, Julian’s face fell, but he carefully schooled his features into a mask of blank professionalism.

“Alright. I’m going to take it that whatever inoculation she was given isn’t proving effective?”

“Yeah, exactly that. It was quite a while ago apparently, and not exactly from an official source. We were just wondering if you could-”

“Yes, absolutely. I’ll be there in a moment, just let me-”

“What?” M sounded horrified, “no, we just need you to authorise beaming her to the cargo bay. There are certain… individuals here… who would probably find it difficult to let her get any rest.”

“Oh,” said Julian, relaxing very slightly, “yes, of course. Yes, right away.”

“Thank you so much! M out.”

“And Bond out too,” said the Lieutenant, waving the dermal regenerator in her hand, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Not that that’s saying much.”

“Just a moment,” said Julian, “how is Tagana? She’s Bajoran too, and I don’t think she ever got the vaccine.”

“No, she didn’t. She’s currently in bed too, but before you come running, it’s fine. We’ve got it under control.” 

The crushing anxiety in Julian’s eyes was a terrible thing to have to see, and Bond advanced on him, tapping him on the chest with the regenerator.

“Listen here, Doctor Bashir,” she said, her eyes blazing with warning, “right now I can see the wheels turning in your mind while you try and figure out how to spread yourself between three rooms on completely different ends of the station. You have to stop it. It’s not possible. We’re going to be  _ fine _ , and you have to just trust that as your friends we’re going to help you, and if something does come up, we are going to comm you. I promise. Besides, the people in here need you.”

Julian held her gaze and for a moment, it looked like he was going to argue. But reason won over, and he nodded.

“I suppose you’re right. It’s not really life threatening in the long term, unless you’re part of the more mature population.”

“You’re allowed to say old, you know, I give you permission,” called Tima.

“Yes, thank you,” said Julian, but he was smiling again. Bond gave his shoulder a quick squeeze, and then went to leave.

“Oh wait, do you know how to use that?” said Julian as she neared the door.

“Sure do! Used it on myself enough,” replied Bond.

“You’ve  _ what _ ?”

“Bye now!” and with that, she was gone.

“Who is that girl?” said Tima, “I like her.” 

*

In hindsight, beaming Jabara out had been a terrible idea. It was getting late, and the novelty of all being in a room together was fast wearing off on the children. Panyi and Hokya had already both cried several times all over a now-exhausted Robertson, and the older children were irritable and argumentative. The quarters were now noticeably colder, the childrens’ skin was sore and sensitive, and the blankets were itchy. Panyi was currently loudly lamenting this fact through tears at Robertson, who was doing their best to settle him into bed. There was an air of tension in the room too, something none of the kids seemed to want to admit to, but there was something in the way they lingered on every bit of attention they were given, the way they held on a little too tightly to every bowl and cup and book they were given. It wasn’t all that long ago that the possibility of losing their parents had been a very real and constant danger. Now there was a new threat - nothing like what they had experienced, but a threat nonetheless. And Panyi, who had already lost his parents - well, it was no wonder it was hitting him the worst. 

Savannah was at the replicator with a PADD in one hand, trying to figure out how to reprogram the current blanket pattern into something softer. Currently, she was having no luck.

“Why won’t he just shut  _ up? _ ” said Tallis, her head in her hands. M hovered near the older girls, unsure of what to do next and worried about a blow-up between the children. Panyi’s crying was just getting louder, and given the circumstances a full blown tantrum wasn’t entirely out of the question. Robertson had gone completely white at the current onslaught of noise, and while they were holding it together right now, this wasn’t even close to over. Savannah made a decision.

“Temporary infirmary B to Garak,” she said. The computer chimed a couple of times, but sure enough, Garak’s very confused voice replied over the comm.

“Lieutenant, is that you? To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

He paused for a moment, taking in the background noise on the communication.

“I take it this is not a social call?”

“I’m so sorry to do this to you Garak, but we’re desperate. It’s Panyi, he-” Savannah winced as Robertson stood up and he screamed even more loudly for them to stay, “well, he won’t go to bed.”

“Ah, it’s an emergency then,” said Garak, his voice completely serious, “I’ll be right over.”

*

The plan was for Garak to wait outside the door, and then take Panyi for a little stroll - he was small for his age, and easy to carry. Hopefully the combination of his favourite person and the slow movement of a nice walk would be enough to soothe Panyi into being able to sleep. 

“Panyi,” said Robertson, “Mister Garak’s coming to take you for a walk before you go to sleep, would you like that?”

Panyi perked up immediately, swiping at the tears on his face.

“Is he going to come here? I can introduce him to everybody!”

Robertson looked a little uneasy at that.

“Uh, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” they said slowly, “Mister Garak isn’t exactly…”

“Is Mister Garak the Cardassian man who lives in the tailor shop?” asked Hokya.

“Well, I’m not sure that he _lives_ there,” said Robertson, “but yes.”

There were gasps from around the room, and Robertson suddenly got the feeling that they were going to be getting some extremely disgruntled comms from parents after all this was over.

“Can he come in? Can we see him?” said Hokya excitedly, setting off a chorus of assenting chatters through the room.

“You can’t let him in, he’s a Cardassian! He’ll eat you,” said Roju, clawing his hands and pretending to roar at the younger girl.

“Didn’t you sneak into his shop once? Why didn’t he eat you then? I bet it’s because you’re too stinky,” replied Yelsi. Roju stuck his tongue out at her.

“Don’t be mean to Mister Garak,” said Panyi indignantly, “he’s my friend and he’s very nice! He’s like… like a hara cat, but in Cardassian skin.”

Savannah forced back a laugh, because the comparison was… not altogether inaccurate.

The door chimed, and the children erupted in shrieks of “let him in!” and “can we meet him?” Robertson shushed everybody and greeted an extremely bewildered looking Garak at the door.

“Everybody’s very excited to meet you. If you want to come in,” they said, unable to hide the grin from their face. Garak peered over their shoulder, and was indeed faced with a dozen or so curious and excited Bajoran faces. The entire situation struck him as incredibly surreal.

“I… don’t know if that would be appropriate,” said Garak.

“At this point, anything to get them to stop fighting is the appropriate action,” said Robertson with a sigh. 

“Excuse me!” 

Hokya was sitting cross-legged on her bed, and she had her hand in the air.

“Hokya, you don’t have to put your hand up, we’re not in class,” said Robertson.

The young girl shook her head, “I wasn’t talking to you, professor. I have a question for Mister Garak.”

“Oh,” said Robertson, moving to the side and leaving Garak standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“...Yes?” said Garak.

“Is it true you can make clothes out of anything? That’s what Panyi says.”

Garak blinked.

“Well… I do make clothes out of lots of different things, I suppose,” he said.

“Could you make clothes out of leaves?” she asked.

“What about flower petals?” asked Roju

“Could you make clothes out of metal?” asked Alka

“That’s called armour, silly,” said Tallis

“Well actually,” said Garak, finally relaxing a little, “I have made clothes out of metal before - you have to spin the metal into very fine wires, and then you can weave it into cloth just like you would with normal fabric.”

Alka and Tallis gazed at him, their eyes big and round with wonder.

“Oh! What about hair?” said Roju excitedly, “Could you make clothes out of hair?”

“Stars?”

“Feathers?”

“Could you make clothes that hold water in them so it’s like you’re always in the bath?”

Garak stood in the doorway while the children hurled question after question at him, and although he made no move to come in just yet, there was a tentative little something about his manner. Perhaps it was the serious thoughtfulness he put into all of his answers. Perhaps it was the way he held himself, with his hands clasped in front of him and his feet together in an attempt to make himself look smaller, less threatening. Perhaps it was in the little sparkle in his eyes that betrayed the fact that despite everything wrong with the situation in theory, he was actually enjoying himself. Whatever it was, when Panyi finally had enough of the current setup and came and took Garak’s hand, leading him into the room seemed like the most natural thing in the world.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Julian Bashir needs to get some damned sleep.

“Are you sure you don’t need a help scanning the-”

“Yes.”

“Well, I can at least put the ointment on-”

“No.”

“This is really too much fuss, we don’t need-”

“Yes you do.”

“You’re not being anywhere _near_ this blunt with your other patients! Give me a little slack here!”

Ahna crossed her arms, which took far more effort than she was willing to let on. Bond rolled her eyes by way of reply, and approached her with a glass of water.

“You need to keep hydrated, and so help me god you are going to let me help you or this is going in your lap and you can sleep in it,” she said.

Ahna squirmed, feeling faintly embarrassed but also deeply, deeply unwilling to allow herself to be this helpless. Every fiber of her being rebelled at the inactivity, being forced to stay put and surrender to Bond seeing to her every need. It just felt… wrong.

“I can do it myself,” said Ahna, reaching for the glass. Her arm felt like lead. To her credit, Bond let her take it, and watched her try and lift it to her lips while her hand shook so badly water began to slosh over the edges. She watched Ahna pointedly as the Bajoran tried to lift it to her lips, but it was just so  _ heavy _ , and she was so sore, and so tired-

“Ahna,” said Bond quietly, dropping the sarcasm. Ahna closed her eyes and let Bond take the glass back.

Anyone else would have told her it was fine. That she wasn’t a bother or a nuisance and that it was a pleasure to help, and that that’s what friends, and what duty were all about. They might have said any number of platitudes that would have become meaningless the moment they were uttered, and embarrassing in a room full of peers and superiors. Bond just made sure to stand close, blocking off everybody else from her view as she helped Ahna drink.

“Doctor Bashir to Temporary Infirmary A,” came Julian’s voice over the speaker.

“Gotcha Doctor, what’s up?” replied Susan.

“I’ve got everyone in here stabilised, so I’d like to do a bit of a round of the rest of our patients,” he said. He was trying to keep his voice light, but there was a forced quality to it.

“We’re all good here Julian, don’t you think it’s time you took a break?” said Susan.

“Not a bad idea,” added Bond.

“I just need one of your to come keep an eye on things up here,” said Julian, probably hoping that if he ignored them, they wouldn’t press the issue. Unfortunately for him, he had chosen the wrong friends for that particular issue.

“I can come keep an eye on you getting knocked on your ass if you don’t take a minute,” said Bond.

“Hell yeah, you tell him!” came Tima’s voice. Bond mentally hi-fived her.

“Perhaps I’ll do that when you find me another medical professional on the station,” said Julian, all pretence lost, turning his voice into a weary monotone. Bond shook her head at that.

“I’ll come and hold the fort then,” she said with a sigh.

“Thank you,” said Julian, “Bashir out.”

Bond turned to Susan.

“Junior Lieutenant Hix, you have my full permission to be as rude to Lieutenant Ahna as you so wish if it means keeping her in bed.”

“Aye sir!” said Susan, giving her a mock salute.

*

The excitement of about an hour’s worth of question and answer time from “Mister Garak” had finally worn the children out. Most of them now lay sprawled on their beds - thankfully, Panyi included. They slept fitfully though, tossing and turning, and occasionally letting out a soft whimper. The blanket situation didn’t help - the coarse replicated fibers were indeed extremely irritating and itchy. Robertson could barely bear to touch them (in their quarters, they slept under a heavy but very soft weighted blanket).

Garak had left some time ago after helping tuck the children in, promising he would be back soon. He apparently had some business to see to. Robertson felt the familiar warmth in their chest that would appear whenever Garak gave them a carefully concealed kindness. Tomorrow, he would likely deny any of this had ever happened.

Savannah was sitting with Hokya, who seemed to stir every half an hour or so, rubbing at bleary eyes and pushing at her blanket, alternating between being cold and being itchy.

“Mermaid-” she mumbled blinking up at Savannah. 

“Did you have a dream about a mermaid?” said Savannah, confused.

“Mmmmmh,” Hokya shook her head.

“Do you… want to be… a mermaid?”

“No,” said Hokya, giving her a sleepy giggle, “Professor… told us about them.”

Savannah didn’t know how to tell this child she had no idea what she was talking about, or what to say in this situation.

“Mermaid hair,” said Hoyka, pointing at Savannah. 

Oh!

“I suppose it is, isn’t it?” said Savannah, studying the teal and purple strands that fell over her shoulder. Hokya nodded sagely, as if she had imparted some great wisdom.

“Mermaid hair.” 

She sighed and wiggled back under the blanket, whimpered, and then kicked at it so that it was only covering her bottom half. As her breathing evened out, Savannah drew it up a little higher.

“Hey,” whispered M, having replicated some sandwiches for everyone, “do you reckon Julian’s eaten yet?”

“Nope,” said Robertson, reaching for a turkey and avocado, “he probably hasn’t even stopped to breathe yet.”

“Is it bad that I’m actively worried he might just fade away into nothing?” said M.

“No, you right,” said Savannah, “and if it’s alright with you guys, I’m going to go do something about that.”

*

That was how Savannah found herself walking the halls of Deep Space Nine in the middle of the night with a plate of ham and cheese sandwiches. They were the best bet really, everybody liked ham and cheese. Unless they didn’t like ham. Or cheese. Or were allergic. Savannah silently prayed that Julian didn’t fit into any of those categories.

Making her way into the infirmary, Savannah stopped in her tracks. Bond seemed to have replaced Julian.

“Is everything alright in here?” whispered Savannah, stepping into the room. A soothing sense of familiarity washed over her as she took in the smell, the soft beeping of the consoles in the background, the dimmed lights.

“Yeah, I’m just keeping an eye on things while Julian checks on the others,” replied Bond, eyeing the plate she was holding.

“Oh, help yourself,” said Savannah, “I made heaps.”

“I take it these were for Doctor Bashir?” said Bond, grabbing a sandwich and taking a big bite.

“Yeah, I figured he probably hadn’t eaten in… well, god knows how long.”

“I’d be willing to bet on it,” said Bond through a mouthful of sandwich, “he sounded exhausted while he was handing over.”

“Sounds about right. Well, I guess I’m off to see the others!”

“Tell them Bond says hi,” said Bond with a wave.

*

The door to the childrens’ quarters chimed, and M ran to get it, trying to keep as quiet as possible. It was no use; as soon as she rose from her seat, Roju gave a soft murmur of displeasure and blinked awake.

Garak was now joined by Irena, and between the two of them they were carrying several pieces of fabric in different colours and patterns. Irena had clearly recently been roused from her quarters, because she was in silk pyjamas and a robe, and had a scarf tied around her head.

“Delivery!” whispered Irena with a grin. The two of them crept into the room and set the fabric down in a pile. 

“What’s all this?” said Robertson, already reaching out a hand to touch. The fabric was thick and warm, and very soft. 

“Oh, some bits and pieces,” said Garak softly, “the ends of the bolts mostly; I thought you might have some use for them given some of the complaints we’ve heard so far tonight.”

“You brought us blankets,” breathed Robertson, their chest swelling with emotion, “oh Garak-”

They made briefly to hug him, but then took in the tension in his shoulders, his clenched fists, the way he leaned very slightly away - and thought the better of it.

“Thank you,” they said instead, and Garak inclined his head. 

“Think nothing of it. You’re doing me a favour, really,” he said, looking away when Robertson broke out in a grin.

“Well, let’s see how this goes,” said Robertson, picking up the first blanket. It was a soft grey wool, with intricate leaf patterns woven through it. Undoubtedly it was quite expensive. Garak, Irena and M also picked up blankets, and together they re-settled the children, noting with satisfaction that they slept much more contentedly under these new blankets, curling up underneath them with delighted sighs. Garak went over to tuck Panyi in, and was greeted with two wide blue eyes.

“Funny, I thought you were meant to be asleep,” said Garak, covering him with a navy blue blanket with a mustard stripe down the bottom. Panyi sat up and hugged it around his shoulders.

“I can’t go to sleep yet,” whispered Panyi conspiratorially, “I’ve got to tell you a secret first.”

Garak leaned down with a small smile, “and what would that be?”

Panyi leapt forwards and gave Garak a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you, Mister Garak!” said Panyi, and giggled quietly, extremely pleased with himself. Garak’s eyes were wide and bewildered - he seemed to have frozen in shock while Panyi happily put himself to bed.

“We made you this one,” said Irena, handing a bright pink blanket with multicoloured polka dots to Robertson. 

“I don’t have to ask which one of you decided on this fabric for me, do I?” said Robertson, although they took the blanket gratefully and threw it around their shoulders like a cape.

“I have no idea what you mean,” said Irena innocently, fluttering her eyelashes.

*

Julian was just finishing up when Savannah arrived at the cargo bay. Bond had been right - he looked a little pale, and his eyes were half-lidded, like he could barely keep them open. He was currently finishing up a scan of Ensign Gia, and grunted as he stood, using the edge of her cot to push himself up. Savannah took a deep breath, and marched right up to him with as much assertiveness as she could muster being more than a full foot shorter. She held the plate up.

“Julian,” she said firmly, “eat.”

Julian stared at her, bewildered. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to think of a response or a question, but nothing came. His brain was too muddled. His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he reached for a sandwich.

Savannah pointed at the nearest chair.

“Sit.” she said. It was a testament to how tired Julian was that he obeyed without question, sitting down with a weary sigh. He ate in silence, staring blankly into space and snapping out of it only when Ari appeared at his elbow with a cup of tea.

“I’m not a creep I swear, Savannah told me how you like it,” they said, holding out the steaming cup. Julian didn’t trust himself to reply except to smile and nod, and sip at the hot, sweet tea.

Looking around, he watched as Ari helped one of the patients turn over in bed, and Susan absently tucked the blankets a little more snugly around Nurse Jabara’s shoulders. The room was filled with light snores and heavy breaths, and that coupled with the dim lighting and the warmth of the teacup on his palms was making him feel very sleepy indeed.

He couldn’t have that.

Setting the teacup down beside him, he got to his feet as quickly as possible. He was, however, unable to hide the wince as his muscles protested the sudden movement, having finally had a chance to rest. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” whispered Susan, her hands on her hips.

“To check on the children,” he said, walking to the door. 

Susan, Savannah and Ari moved together, standing in the doorway and blocking him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” said Julian, “get out of the way!”

“Lieutenant Hix to Temporary Infirmary B,” said Susan.

“Hello Lieutenant,” said a familiar voice, “your friends are indisposed at the moment, but I can answer your question.”

In the background came the sound of retching.

“Garak?” hissed Julian, keeping his voice as quiet as possible, “what the hell are you doing in there?”

“Tucking the children in, my dear Doctor,” said Garak mildly, “now what can I help you with?”

“How’s it all going in there?” said Susan, “can you give us an update?”

“Well, the children were all asleep until about five minutes ago. I expect the young man you just heard will be too, in a moment.”

“No emergencies?” said Susan.

“I can’t say I’ve noticed any.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“Nothing except my presence, perhaps,” said Garak, “now if it’s alright with you, I’d like to try and make as little noise as possible. I wouldn’t want to wake the children.”

“Of course not, thank you,” said Susan.

“Alright,” said Julian, “I get your point, but-”

“Lieutenant Hix to infirmary,” said Susan, not breaking eye contact.

“Oh, come on-”

“Lieutenant Bond here, what’s up?”

“Bond, can you tell me if there are any blaring medical alerts going on right now?” said Susan.

“None whatsoever, I’m happy to say.”

“Thanks. That’s it.”

“No worries. Tell Julian to go the fuck to sleep, if that’s what this is about.”

“Noted. Hix out.”

Julian Bashir’s three small friends actually looked quite imposing, standing there in a row with their arms crossed.

“There’s a free cot Miles put in in case of extra overnight personnel,” said Ari. Julian clenched his hands at his sides, feeling helpless but not quite able to will his brain into formulating a plan. 

“Julian,” said Savannah, taking his arm and leading him to the bed, “you’re crashing. You’re of no use to anybody like this, and honestly I’m really worried about you. We all are."

She sat him down gently on the bed, and his head drooped forwards as his body started to give in.

“There,” said Susan softly, kneeling beside him, “let’s get your shoes off.” 

Julian hummed his assent, and fumbled at the zipper on the front of his uniform. Savannah caught his hand and helped him, while Julian’s arm flopped uselessly to his side. Finally, in his undershirt and shorts, Julian looked to be mostly asleep even before he keeled over and his head finally hit the pillow. Savannah looked at his face in the half-light of the room, and worried over the dark shadows under his eyes. Even in sleep he looked uneasy, as though he carried all the worries he had from the waking world into his dreams. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Julian FINALLY gets some fuckin sleep

Savannah knew by now to keep an eye on Julian while he slept. Not that she saw him sleep all that often, but they’d shared quarters enough times for her to know what was coming.

It started with a sharp gasp. Julian’s body jerked suddenly and he curled into a ball, just like he had done that night when they’d been on holiday. 

“Please-” he said, far too loudly. He was sure to wake somebody.

“Is he-” began Ari

“Julian?” whispered Savannah, kneeling beside his little bed. Julian’s eyes were screwed up tightly, his hands clutching at his blanket with a white-knuckled grip.

“Do that thing you did last time!” whispered Susan. Savannah lay her hand on Julian’s arm, hoping the contact would soothe him. Instead, a gasp of fear escaped him and he curled even further in on himself, covering his head with his arms.

“Don’t make me go back in,” he pleaded, “- too much... you’re going too fast, I don’t - I can’t-” his words cut off with a dry sob, and a fierce protectiveness surged through Savannah. 

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

She sat on the edge of the thin mattress and put her arm around him, rubbing gentle circles on his back. That worked a little better, as some of the tension in his shoulders melted away. Julian made a soft, inarticulate noise and pawed at the waist of Savannah’s uniform, tugging weakly at it.

“What is it?” she said. Julian didn’t reply, but nor did he let go.

“You want me to stay?”

Julian shifted backwards on the bed. Was he making room?

“… you want me to lie down too?”

No reply. Well, there was only one way to find out. 

Savannah tentatively lay down on her side, her feet hanging off the edge of the rather small cot. It was definitely not built for two, but she fit perfectly below Julian’s chin. Behind her, Julian sighed contentedly, and she felt him finally begin to relax. His breathing evened out, and he wriggled into a slightly more comfortable position, his hand coming to rest on her waist. It was warm. All of him was warm.

In the dark, somebody came and dumped a blanket over the two of them.

“Your watch is in four hours,” whispered Susan, “because Ari and I are being nice and letting you go last.”

“Can’t get up. Trapped,” Savannah replied, sticking out her tongue.

“Figure it out. I’ll dump the both of you out of bed if you get between me and sleep.” 

*

Back in the childrens’ room, Garak, Robertson and Irena had entered a similar arrangement. M was now needed back in ops, and had retreated to her quarters to catch a few hours’ sleep before her next shift. Robertson was currently sprawled wearily in a chair near Roju’s bed - he was a little feverish and had been waking up sporadically all night, and needed watching over. Plus, they would never hear the end of it if one of the children happened to mention that they had been left in the care of the station’s resident Cardassian, and the Holosuite companion, no matter how great she was being with the rest of the kids. 

The room was otherwise pretty quiet. Every now and then someone would stir and ask for a glass of water, or jerk awake from a bad dream and need reminding of where they were. It was good to have Irena there, because she could sense them coming, and be there to quietly talk them back to sleep. When they weren’t helping out, Garak and Irena pushed two chairs together so they could sit next to each other, their heads tilted together as they spoke softly about something or other. Robertson couldn’t quite hear them. 

The rest of the night passed quietly, and blessedly without any emergencies. Savannah still hadn’t returned, which meant that she was with Julian, which meant that Julian was being looked after. That sat perfectly fine with Robertson. In fact, they thought, everyone had done quite well with the whole situation, all things considered. Not that they’d had to do much in the way of real medicine, but they’d certainly kept everything under control. They wished they could see how the others were going. But if they knew their friends - which they did - the other temporary infirmary was likely just like this. Dark. Calm. Softly, determinedly alive in the quiet breaths that filled the room. They felt a little swell of pride for their little group of friends, this odd collection of anxious, medically-averse people who had banded together to help a friend. 

*

“What do you mean she’s got the all clear? How did she manage that?” demanded Ahna, gaping up at Kira who, despite her still-healing sores, was already up and walking around.

“I was told to rest, so I rested,” said Kira with a shrug, “Doctor Bashir knows what he’s talking about sometimes, I guess.”

“And rest you did, that’s… I can’t believe it, Major,” said Julian, still running a tricorder over her, “you must have rested harder than anybody’s ever rested before. Trust you of all people to manage that.”

Kira didn’t respond, except to give him a smug smile.

“I guess that means I can take a watch for whoever needs it,” she said, “I don’t imagine your sleeping arrangements were entirely comfortable last night.”

Susan, who was bringing breakfasts around to everybody, blushed. In fact, Kira had found them that morning, piled around Julian on the one cot. After her watch, Susan had simply wandered over and snuggled in behind Julian, and then Ari had decided to sit next to them during their watch, and had at some point during the night fallen sideways so that their head rested on the pillow next to Julian, all four friends completely worn out from the day. Thankfully, there had been no problems between that and Kira waking up to find them all huddled together in a big pile. From then on though, they had decided that everybody would be operating on shifts. Including Julian.

They settled into a routine. Julian and Bond shared duties in the infirmary, and to Julian’s chagrin Tima seemed to prefer it when Bond was around (although perhaps she was just saying that to mess with him). Ari, Susan and Kira shared duties in the cargo bay, and Savannah went to relieve an extremely grateful Robertson. The start of that second day in the childrens’ room was much easier, because nobody wanted to be the one to disturb their exhausted professor from taking a nap down the back of the room. 

At the end of seventy-eight hours, all but the elderly Bajorans in the infirmary had recovered enough to go back to their quarters, and it was a resounding sigh of relief that came over Julian’s temporary nursing staff. Everyone was promptly put on two days of leave to get some proper sleep, and with that, the whole saga was over as quickly as it had begun.

That was, except for one Doctor Julian Bashir.

The early hours of the morning saw him getting a handover from Bond about the previous night in the infirmary. She and Tima were on first name terms at this point, gossiping and complaining together about the inaccuracy of the replicator recipes, the terrible decor, the awful fashion (many arguments were had over the merits of the Bajoran versus the Starfleet uniforms). Really, the two of them were practically friends rather than nurse and patient at this point. Julian was really rather bewildered by the whole thing - especially the fact that Bond seemed to have an excellent bedside manner, the complete opposite of her attitude as a patient. She seemed so… Kind. Sweet, even. If anything, it was really quite disconcerting.

“Doctor?”

Julian’s eyelashes fluttered as he blinked himself back into the present moment. He had drifted off mid-sentence from Bond.

“Sorry. Could you explain that part again?”

Bond gave him a strange look.

“I wasn’t explaining anything, I was asking you if you wanted something to eat.”

“Oh.”

The doors opened, and there were Nurses Jabara and Tagana, still extremely spotty, but otherwise recovered. They were in their uniforms.

“What are you two doing here?” said Julian, though he seemed pleased to see them.

“Lieutenant Bond called us in to get a handover - sorry we’re late, we got caught up on the way in because we ran into-”

“Hold on, a handover? You shouldn’t even be on duty, you’ve only just recovered,” said Julian, but the two nurses shared an amused smile.

“That’s rich coming from a man who’s slept an average of three hours a day since this all started,” said Tagana. Bond gave him a little push towards the door.

“Go away Julian, you’re on leave as of now, just like the rest of us.”

“But you can’t just-”

“Shoo!” said Jabara

“I’m the Chief Medical Officer!”

“Young man!” said Tima, “I’ve reason to believe you should, as the dear Lieutenant might say, get the  _ fuck _ out of here!”

Julian gaped at her for a moment, but that was long enough for all three of the women to manhandle him out the door.

“And stay out!” called Tima.

*

Two days off. Just a few hours in, the time already stretched in front of him like it was an eternity. Julian had tried to sleep. His body was exhausted, the adrenaline crash leaving his limbs heavy and weighted. He was still sprawled on his bed, where he had been for the last two hours. He couldn’t move, but nor could he get himself to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, his brain supplied vivid memories of the infirmary, so clear they were almost hallucinations. Occasionally, a sore muscle somewhere in his body would spasm, jerking him wide awake once more. He knew what was happening - his brain hadn’t caught up to the fact that it was suddenly all over. 

He draped his hand over his eyes and let out a long, deep breath, willing the building frustration away. The less relaxed he was, the less likely it was that he would fall asleep. But what if he didn’t? What if he just lay here for hours and hours, unable to sleep or even rest properly, anxiety churning away in his chest? What a waste of time that would be, time he could be spending helping with the inoculation efforts planetside, or writing up his reports on the situation. Perhaps it would be worth getting started with that, after all.

If only he could will himself to move.

The door chimed, and he found that he could barely even muster the energy to respond. 

It chimed again.

“Yeah,” he said, the effort of forcing that one word feeling immense.

It was Ari. They looked about as tired as he felt, with dark shadows under their eyes. In their arms was Delta, their black eastern quoll. They held themself carefully while they walked, like something was bothering them.

“I just thought-” they said, but then they stopped. Julian stared, his brain completely empty of how to respond in this situation. 

“Sorry,” they said, shifting Delta in their arms, “I just thought, you were probably still awake. And Delta’s very soft.” 

They placed the quoll on the bed, and she sniffled around the blankets until Julian’s hand was found, and then nudged at it with her nose. Julian blinked in surprise, and then petted her. Ari was right. She was very soft.

“I couldn’t sleep either, so I figured you might be having a similar problem.”

Julian lay back against the wall and patted the spot on the bed next to him.

“You’re right on that count,” he said, as Ari clambered onto the bed next to him.

“I’m afraid I won’t be much company tonight though.”

“Thats alright,” said Ari, “neither will I. That’s what Delta’s for.”

The two of them sat in companionable silence for a while after that, watching Delta explore the hills and valleys that their knees made under the blanket. Not long after though, the door chimed again. This time, it was Savannah and Susan, holding a plate of cookies.

“I’m stressed,” announced Susan, “and I assume all of you are as well. Scootch over, Ari.”

Susan and Savannah took their place on the bed as well, sitting cross-legged on top of the covers while they set down the plate of delightfully soft chocolate chip cookies.

“That sure was a weird time, huh,” said Savannah, stuffing a cookie in her mouth. Julian smiled and nodded, taking one for himself. 

“Do you mind if I get a tea?” said Savannah, smiling when Julian shook his head.

The next person to arrive was Irena, who came bearing a pile of many-coloured blankets.

“Garak had these cleaned,” she said with a smile, dumping the entire pile on Julian’s bed. 

“He said “this always happens Irena, I can’t imagine why, but I guarantee that if you walk into Doctor Bashir’s quarters right now, half the station will be huddled on his bed.”” Irena raised her eyebrows in the best imitation of Garak she could muster, and the rest of them laughed.

“Oh, this is so soft!” exclaimed Ari, picking up the blue and mustard one and passing it to Julian. He absently held the fabric up to his cheek and smiled.

“Excuse me,” said Bond from the doorway, “you all look like you’re having way too much fun for your own good here.”

M followed close behind her, the two of them obviously dressed for bed in soft grey tshirts and matching pants. They too piled on with the others, at which point an executive decision was made to put the mattress on the floor, along with all of the couch cushions. Garak’s blankets completed the picture, which resembled an extremely large and soft bird’s nest. Julian perched in it, the soft blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was currently starting to feel very warm, and the odd tremors that he had felt down to his core were subsiding. He was safe. He was surrounded by his friends, and for now, everything had stopped. The door chimed one more time, and Susan held up a hand to shush Julian.

“Taking bets guys, is that Garak or Rob?”

“It’s Rob, and they’ve made everyone hot chocolate,” said Savannah

“Pillows, they’ve brought extra pillows,” added Irena

“What if they’ve brought some of their five hundred stuffed animals?” said Bond. 

“Wait,” said Savannah, “how do you-”

The door chimed again, and Julian responded with a soft “come in!”

The entire group collectively groaned in disappointment when it was Garak who poked his head in instead, then burst out into giggles at the confusion on his face.

“We thought it was Rob,” said Susan, but then Rob walked in too. They were holding a big, sweet-smelling pot.

“Called it!” shouted Savannah, punching the air, “ten points!”

“I’m not even going to ask,” said Robertson. Garak was holding the exact right amount of glasses for everybody, and soon they were all quietly sipping at the warm mixture.

Julian had his hands wrapped around his cup, and he smiled over the rim of it at Garak, his eyes half-lidded and sleepy.

“Garak, how did you get roped into delivering hot chocolate anyway?” said Irena, curious.

Garak shrugged, “it’s a mystery even to me, my dear. One moment I was making a quick house call to retrieve my collection of off-cuts, the next moment I was press ganged into helping make this ridiculously sweet concoction.”

“Actually, he came and found me mid-meltdown,” said Robertson, “as it turns out, having to play professional around patients non-stop for four days will do that to you.”

They said this with a pointed look at Julian, who stared down into his drink.

“... not that bad,” he mumbled.

“What’s that?” said Susan mildly, “you wouldn’t be trying to downplay your own struggles, would you? Not in the way you’ve told me to stop doing a million times already?”

Julian didn’t respond. Ari, who was sitting next to him, shuffled a little closer.

“You know, we’re all here because we’re having trouble, well, switching off after all that,” they said, so softly he could barely hear them.

“Hmm,” he said. Ari lay their head on his shoulder, and from his other side, Susan wriggled in so that she was pressed against him too, helping to prop him up. Julian didn’t say anything, but he finished his hot chocolate while he allowed the quiet chatter of his friends to wash over him. 

He was drifting again, but this time he was engulfed from all sides with warmth, from his shoulders to his legs to the palms of his hands. Somebody’s fingers brushed his as his cup was taken from him, and there were whispered commands, which resulted in somebody shifting beside him. The blanket around his shoulders was pulled a little tighter. It was soft, comfortable, cosy. A hand grazed his cheek, one that was cooler than the others, with skin that was oddly smooth and leathery. The touch was gentle. When Julian finally began to drop off to sleep, the last sensation he recalled was the feeling of many hands, helping to lower him slowly to the bed.


End file.
